She's All In: Club 3, Book 1 (17 page)

BOOK: She's All In: Club 3, Book 1
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Daisy stared at the begonia blooming in the corner of her small living room. The creamy blooms rose exuberantly from the shelter of the plant, a delicate and surprising contrast to the broad, spiky, green leaves.

“I’m going to try.”

“Good. ’Cause I have to tell you, Dack is really hot. I’ll bet he can really show a woman a good time.”

Daisy made a face at her phone. Sara didn’t have to be quite so enthusiastic. “He’s also taken.” At least as far as Sara was concerned. Daisy was all too aware she had no control over what other women Dack was with.

“Oops.” Sara winced audibly. “Of course he is. So-oo, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can.” Daisy waited, intrigued.

“Well… Was it really hot last time, you know…” Her friend hesitated and then finished in a rush. “When you let him spank you. I mean, was it part of the fun, or just something you wanted to get through for the sex?”

Daisy grinned. “Does someone want her fanny warmed?”

Sara groaned, embarrassment clear. “Oh, I’m such a slut even admitting this, but…yeah. It sounds really…intriguing.”

“Any special guy in mind?” Daisy asked warily. If Sara said Dack, she was going to rip her red hair out.

Sara hesitated. “Not really. He doesn’t have to be handsome, y’know, just fit and sexy.”

Daisy made a sound of wordless agreement. Looks weren’t everything. Mason wasn’t the best-looking guy at the club, but he was one of the sexiest. If it weren’t for Dack, she would’ve probably accepted his offer that first night.

“Yes, it was hot,” she admitted. In fact, she squirmed on her little sofa at the memory of Dack’s strong will overpowering hers, of his hand smacking and then soothing her ass. She didn’t care if she ever saw one of those paddles again. Or that jerk Kevin.

“So you’re going back?” Sara asked. “’Cause if you are, I’ll come with you next time.”

“Yes,” Daisy decided. “I am going back. And that big carpenter isn’t going to know what hit him. Metaphorically speaking, that is.”

She wrinkled her nose. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be allowed to smack his fine ass. But she would love to get her hands on it. Missionary style, in that bed. She wanted to be under him, with his big, hard body pressing her into the bed, while he pounded into her.

“Well, now we just need to work on Carlie,” Sara said. “That girl needs some guy to show her she’s beautiful.”

“So do you,” Daisy said loyally. “You have the best body of the three of us. You’re so fit.”

Sara snorted. “Didn’t impress Jason much.”

“Well, speaking of a-holes, he is the king,” Daisy reminded her. “So who cares what he thinks? There are lots of hot guys at the club,” she told Sara. “In fact, I was surprised how many people not only can afford the fees but are interested in the lifestyle.”

“And you haven’t even been upstairs,” Sara said jokingly.

“Yeah. I don’t know…if Dack goes up there.”

“Guess you’ll find out.”

Daisy swallowed. “Yup. Guess I will.”

She and Sara said good-bye with a promise to meet at the gym on Tuesday evening. Suddenly exhausted, Daisy hauled herself off the sofa and traipsed into the bathroom for a cool shower.

She eyed her reflection in her bathroom mirror. A woman with a tearstained face, chic hairdo and curvy body in a ridiculously sexy outfit. She smiled crookedly as she untied the ripped western shirt. Daisy Duke, he’d called her.

Well, she could certainly use some of the character’s attitude. And she’d do it too. She set her jaw as she unhooked her bra and shrugged it off, baring her full breasts. She stroked her hands over them and nodded decisively.

As the amazing Twila had said, she was now more bodacious than the average woman, and she was going to use that to get what she wanted instead of being afraid.

Even if the thought scared her half to death.

 

 

Daisy stood in the shade of a cluster of tall evergreens near the EbiTeck fitness track. The high-tech company had purchased the Forest Grove campus of a private college moving to newer quarters. EbiTeck had done a great job of making their new labs and offices fit in with the look of the old Main Hall and torn down the ugly buildings the college had added in the sixties. They’d even managed to save most of the towering trees.

Carlie worked for EbiTeck, the reason she, Daisy and Sara had met at a breast cancer walk-a-thon here more than a year ago.

What a difference that year had made. Daisy looked around her, smiling at familiar faces and enjoying the morning. Women eddied around her, laughing and chatting, clad as she was in light, comfortable clothing and walking shoes. Pink was the most prevalent color, and those who didn’t wear pink T-shirts and baseball caps had pink ribbons affixed somewhere on their person. There were men and boys sprinkled in the throng, but most of those who’d shown up today to walk were women. Breast cancer survivors, friends and family.

She reached up to settle her own pink plaid bucket hat on her head. Then she looked down as she brushed grass from the seat of her shorts. She wore white shorts, a pink tank and her favorite tennies, with pink ribbons tied into the shoelaces. Water bottle, check. Sunglasses, check. Sunscreen lip gloss, check. She was ready. Later, as the sun rose higher, she’d slip on her long-sleeved sun shirt, but for now she was going to enjoy the sun on her skin and work on her tan for a couple of hours.

She glanced at the big clock set up by one of the booths, selling T-shirts, water bottles and other “pink” paraphernalia. Eight o’clock, time to get started.

Her mother and sisters would be here at nine with the girls. Carlie was out of town with family, but Sara had promised to come. Daisy’s dad had given her a pledge sheet filled out with pledges from his golf buddies, his ticket to freedom for the day. He’d kissed her cheek and told her if he was going to walk in the hot sun, he damn well wanted a club and something to hit with it.

She sighed, wishing she was at the river or out at the coast. It was going to be a long, hot day. Only for such a good cause would she submit to this torture. Walking around and around in the sun with no water in sight just sucked.

“Oh, here comes a cowboy I wouldn’t mind taking for a stroll,” commented one of the middle-aged women waiting nearby. “Hoo-boy.”

Her friend turned to look. “Yum, sign him up on our team, Bernice.”

The others laughed, nudging each other.

Daisy peered past the awning of the nearest booth to see who they were ogling. Someone’s cute boyfriend or son, probably.

Her heart gave a great thunk and began to beat double time. A tall, tanned, broad-shouldered man was sauntering down the track toward her, clad in shorts and a tight T-shirt, a familiar battered straw cowboy hat on his head.

Dack saw her and grinned, his teeth a white slash in his bearded face. He wore his trademark shades, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but with that smile, she knew they’d hold a devilish twinkle.

Daisy skirted his admirers and walked out into the sun to meet him, delighted but bewildered. “Morning, cowboy. What are you doing here?”

Dack stopped before her. “Well, y’know that date you wanted us to go on?”

Amusement and delight bubbled up inside her, lighter than air. “Are you kidding me? You’re here to be with me?”

Her intense relief made her realize how tense she’d been all week. She’d been so afraid that after she ran out of the club he’d be tired of dealing with her and her fears. Even though he’d been so sweet, holding her, when he’d taken back his key it had felt like he was taking his…well, not love, but his approval.

He looked around and then bent close, cocking his head near hers. “Yeah, although I have to tell you, the Pink Camo Grammas over here may give you a run for your money. They’ve been givin’ me the eye, if you know what I mean.”

Daisy glanced over at the group of elderly women beaming at her and Dack. She smiled back at them and swatted him on his bicep. “You are so full of it.”

At that moment, a loud horn tooted. “Welcome to the Forest Grove ‘Kick Cancer’ Walk,” an amplified voice called over the field. “Eight o’clock teams, on the track. Let’s kick some cancer butt, people.”

Dack held out his hand, and Daisy took it. She followed him out onto the track, and they started off among the other walkers.

“Slower walkers to the center,” the woman with the megaphone called. “You faster walkers take the long way around. It’s good for you.”

The walkers laughed or protested good-naturedly as they sorted themselves out on the track. Daisy moved to the outside with Dack, the lane open ahead of them, her spirits lighter than they’d been all week. “How did you even know I was going to be here?” she asked.

“You told me you were doing a walk this weekend, so I did some research. Printed myself off a pledge sheet and started signing people up.”

“At the club?” When he nodded, she snickered. Well, the members certainly had money, so this was a good use of it, even if he’d just gotten a few dollars.

“And people I know,” he added.

“People you know,” she mimicked admiringly. “I’m impressed. Thank you. So, are you from here?”

“Nah, I’m from the Gorge, Hood River. My dad worked on the Bonneville Dam. How about you?”

“Tigard. Go Tigers. My dad’s a retired Realtor.”

He nodded, grinning. “I’m an Eagle, myself. So now you’re a Realtor too, huh?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “Not even close. I’m a secretary at WorldWide Realty. I’m taking classes, though. Gonna get my license.”

“I believe you.” He squeezed her hand. “You’ll be up there smiling on the billboards. ‘Buy my house.’” He pointed an admonishing finger down at imaginary motorists, and Daisy laughed.

“How about you?” she asked. Then she shook her head, turning to jog backwards in front of him. “Wait, wait. Don’t tell me, let me guess. You work outside, I know that, ’cause you’re all tan and buff, and not just from those huge weights you maul.”

“Whoa, careful.” He grabbed her arms and pulled her back beside him, her hand in his again. “You’re gonna trip, and then I’ll have to spend the next hour spreading first aid ointment on your elbows and your ass… No, wait a minute. Go ahead and run backwards. I’ll be your ointment bitch anytime.”

She snickered. “Don’t try to distract me. So, you’re tanned, but when you take your sunglasses off, you’re not as tanned around your eyes, so you don’t lie in a tanning bed.”

He snorted with disgust, and she grinned. He was such a guy. Probably rather chew nails than go to a tanning salon.

“And you come into the gym all covered in dust sometimes, but it’s not regular dirt. More like…construction dust.”

He waited, smiling as they walked along. She held up their linked hands and examined his. Big and brown and powerful, with the heavy musculature and tendons of a hand that worked hard. Scars, and a fresh scab on one knuckle that made her frown with dismay. “You get hit with things—hammers. You’re a carpenter,” she said triumphantly.

He chuckled and squeezed her hand again. “Very good. I’m a builder.”

“Houses?”

“Yup, and small business projects. Do some remodeling too. Just rebuilt a place up on Bull Mountain. Tore down the old place and started over from the ground up.”

Daisy nodded. How cool was that? They were in the same field. “I love houses,” she said. “What’s your favorite style?”

He considered. “Craftsman, I guess. I like a solid, traditional look.”

“Built to last,” she agreed. “So do you own a home?”

“Nope. Condo. Easier to take care of. Between work, the gym and the club, I’m pretty busy.”

“No hobbies, huh?” she asked dryly.

He chuckled, this time a low, intimate growl. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

Daisy stared fixedly at the track ahead, her cheeks hot. Oh geez, she’d walked right into that one. He had a hobby, all right.

She cast him a look under the brim of her hat and found him looking back at her. They walked along, a sedate distance between them, but suddenly Daisy felt that familiar tightening in her breasts and heat twining down deep inside her.

He smiled slowly. “I like that top, Petal. I like it a lot.”

She peered down and groaned. Her nipples were hard points, poking through her sports bra and tank.

Dack squeezed her hand, his thumb massaging the back of her hand. She felt it clear to her girly parts. “You get a free T-shirt for participating,” she told him, for something to say. “I hope you like pink.”

He chuckled. “No thanks. I’ll just get an extra one for you.”

“Hey,” she said with mock indignation. “If the pro football players can wear pink to support breast cancer research, you can too.”

He nodded. “You got a point there, Petal. Maybe we could—”

“Dack Humboldt, is that you?”

Dack turned, and Daisy peered around him. A tall woman who looked perhaps ten years older than Daisy had hurried up beside Dack on his other side. She wore skimpy pink shorts and a snug T-shirt, her long brown hair curling around her shoulders as if she were going out for the evening. She was beaming at Dack. With those teeth, she really should keep her mouth closed. Okay, that was bitchy, but did Dack have to look so pleased to see the woman?

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